Existential Crisis

Death does not scare me. What comes after that does. The mystery of what’s going to happen after we die, where we go, what then. Not knowing that, the uncertainty of it, scares me. If only I knew, I would not be here right now.

To some this sound depressing but I am in a quite stable mood right now, still, life feels meaningless and therefore pointless to me. I have to work hard, struggle to survive, all for what? To eventually die anyway in the end? I have been having suicidal thoughts lately, and not in a depressing way. I just don’t want to exist anymore. Who am I anyway? What am I? What are humans? What’s our purpose here? Some people might find these interesting. They would go out and try to find the answers to these questions, make theories and find evidences, but I am tired. I don’t want to know. I just want to disappear. All I know is that I am tired of living this dull life and I feel extremely alone.

Maybe everyone feel this way, everyone got their own story, their own pain. But how come no one has ever reached out? How are they so comfortable living in this painful and lonely life? Maybe I am not everyone and being alone makes me do bad things. I am not my own best friend, I hate the way my mind works, and I cannot be left alone by it. My wellbeing depends on other people because I just can’t be left alone without feeling paranoid. But they’re just distractions in the end, someone I run to to be able to function for a while, they make me forget but never healed. So I can’t blame them for not always being here when I need them. Although I could’ve slept better if they were here, I could’ve talked to them instead of hurting myself, I could’ve eatan. But it’s not their fault, I am a broken thing, something they wouldn’t be able to fix even if they wanted to.

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